sorry for keeping you all waiting. it's been a hectic life right now, good hectic; i'm better when i'm busy. i promise i'll have another chapter up by next monday at the latest, okay?

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It feels as though no matter how many breaths I take, all the air has been vacuumed from my lungs.

Can't you drive any faster!? I want to scream at Teddy, but I know he's doing his best. His face creases at the corners as he tries to shift into fourth with his fingers still twisted with my own. We're going forty in a twenty five mile per hour zone, so it's only a matter of time before someone in this sleepy town with nothing better to do calls the cops. Only hopefully we'll be gone by then.

I watch out the window as street after street of identical houses zoom by. Behind all those doors I imagine perfect families, ones where their kids don't go into comas or lose boyfriends or smoke a pack of cigarettes on a good day. It's unrealistic, because everyone has their secrets. Most people's just are considerably easier to hide.

Teddy growls and punches at the radio. A fuzzy alternative station comes in over the speakers, volume just barely loud enough for me to catch a line from the song before he changes it.

Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me.

A whiny pop song comes in, much clearer than the last. I'm not really listening to the lyrics, but the bass makes the car vibrate. I force the lyric from previously in between the beats where I see fit. It snuggles in between the cracks like a current of icy wind under a water warped window. Bitter. Harsh. Undesired.

"Do you want me to turn it off?" my brother asks as my expression twists with displeasure. "Or I can change it at least."

My words only come out in my mind. That's alright. I can't speak. I feel like I'm choking over the words, rather than using them to describe the feeling. Just don't stop driving. Please.

"Is that a no?"

I nod. It's the best I can do.

"He's going to be okay." Teddy gives my hand a squeeze and releases it back to the safety of my lap. "That kid's got a strong heart."

What the hell does a strong heart have to do with anything? He's got machines breathing for him, no doubt.

Teddy must have seen the look on my face, because he rephrases himself. "He's strong. That's all I meant. He's not going to give up so easily."

And what makes you so sure?

"Okay." He shifts his focus between the radio and the road ahead, spending a little too much time on the former. It's probably a good thing mom asked Teddy to drive me. I wouldn't have been table to pretend everything was still getting better.

Everything was getting better. Everything was getting so much better.

"Do you um...do you mind if I have a smoke?" My voice sounds so much more vulnerable than I feel. And I didn't even think that was possible.

"Shit, yeah. Go ahead. Can I have one too?"

You smoke? I'm dying to say, but I put my energy in not dropping a smoldering cigarette into my brother's lap. He looks so natural holding it, while I'm clumsily pinching the end of mine. My fingers are too shaky to be graceful. Justin would call me out as a cannibal for it.

"You can't even hold your smoke without me getting scared you're going to drop it on your leg and decide to eat me instead." He threw back his head and laughed. The shaggy hair fell over beautiful eyes, and I brushed it back out in a fluid motion, lit cigarette in hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe, I'm completely in control." I told him after a satisfying drag. The smoke tasted like death but death has always tasted like home.

My hand was shaking worse than a dog left out in the snow.

He stole a quick breath off the end and coughed at the burn. "Shit, this tastes better on you."

"It's a bit strong for you, eh Justy? Justin can't hold his tobacco."

"Shut up," he groaned and blushed into his lap. He'd just been beat by a boy whose manhood had been suspended on account of the tightness of his jeans.

Memory out. When I come back, cold trails down my cheek remind me of reality. I wipe the tears from their hangings on my chin and stare out into the night, the glass no longer a barrier.

"Teddy...?" I whisper and watch as my words are whisked away into the outside air. I don't think he's heard me over the music and the smell of the smoke, but I'm proven wrong when a masculine hand reaches for the volume dial.

"Yeah?"

"Do you..." Words are harder for me than they're supposed to be, yet I need their reassurance. I hate how badly I need something I'm not able to give. "Do you really think he'll be okay?"

This is harder for Teddy than he's comfortable with. Everything about every situation for far too long has just been uncomfortable and it's not fair to him. He didn't even like Justin. He doesn't even like me. So why should he have to deal with something involving two people he doesn't even like?

And because he's my brother, he overlooks all that. It's all irrelevant. I'm not some stupid long haired faggot sitting in the front seat, dropping ash onto the side of his car who he'd like nothing better than to shove in a trashcan and forget about until the next day. "He's going to be okay. I promise you Damian. He'll be fine."

We don't talk for the remainder of the car ride. I focus on counting each set of headlights coming at us from across the highway.

Sixteen. Only sixteen people out on the road at eight PM.

Why can't the hospital be closer? But then again, I don't want to face seeing Timmy hooked up to more machines than a person of his age ever should be. I don't want to see what life's next victim looks like. I don't want to accept I'm going to lose the greatest thing to be in my life at this very moment.

I don't think I can handle it.

Teddy, I can't do this, I'm screaming but suffocating on the words. Teddy, I can't see him lying there helplessly, unable to do the simplest of human things on his own. Teddy, I can't accept the fact that I'm going to lose him too.

"Last stop," he announces and shuts the ignition off, "the hospital."

I can't do it. My fingers grip at the edge of my seat. There's no way I can get out of the car.

Teddy smiles sympathetically at me. It looks too kind for his harsh face; too out of place. 

Don't be nice to me. Take me home and let me live the rest of my life in denial.

"Need some help getting out? Or do you want to take the chair with you too?"

You're not funny. I focus on breathing, in and out. My chest is so tight it barely moves with each breath.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asks. "Shit Damian, you look like you're about to pass out. Are you sure you want to go in?"

No I do not want to go in. What about this entire thing makes you think I'd ever want to go in? Are you fucking insane?

Teddy exits the car and opens my door for me. I just about fall out onto the concrete at the loss of support on my right side if it wasn't for his sturdy hands. "Come on, I'll help you out." I let him guide me out of the front seat and into the foggy Oregon atmosphere mostly because I don't have it in me to fight him. "Do you need me to carry you inside?"

"No," I speak slowly, letting myself properly digest the syllables before spitting them back out, "I can walk." There's no reason for me to ask for any more help if I don't need it. Asking for help only makes me feel obliged to help out later in return.

"Okay, but don't pass out on me now. Jesus, do you need to sit down?"

I continue to lean on his arm the entire walk. When the doors magically seem to open, I realize how faint I actually am. The room spins and I grip tighter on to Teddy than I think humanly possible.

He leads me over to a set of plastic hospital chairs, chained together and then secured to the wall. I'm too out of it to think of how much sickness has seated itself in this very spot, and set myself down gratefully as he leaves to check in.

"We're here to see Timothy McKinnon," I hear Teddy say to the lady behind the counter. "His mom just called us. We're his cousins."

"Just a moment," she tells him and types something into an ancient computer. The screen must be older than Teddy and I combined.

He taps his foot on the linoleum and the sound travels back to me. It fits in tune with my violent shaking.

The receptionist frowns and glances over her computer at me. "He looks like he's about to pass out. Are you sure you didn't want the ER instead?"

"Are you okay Damian?" my brother calls over and I force a nod.

The walls are so white. The walls are so painfully white. They're white like the inside of Timmy's wrist. I can't do it. I have to call to Teddy and have him carry me back home where I can pull the covers over my head and pretend none of this is really happening. It can't be happening. None of this is reality. It's all just a dream and I'm going to wake up from Justin snoring too loudly in my ear and I'm going to kiss down his stomach until he wakes up and pulls me into his arms. Three more seconds. Just three more seconds and this nightmare will be over.

But it's not a nightmare. Teddy's warm breath on my face and the stench of hospital cleaner reminds me of that. "Are you okay?" he asks for the third time tonight, and it's three times too many. I'm still having trouble focusing on his facial features, and everything seems to blur together. "Damian, wiggle your fingers or something. The woman is getting freaked out."

"I'm okay," I whisper.

I hate words. I hate how much I struggle with them when they seem to come at ease of everybody else. I'm jealous of people who are able to accurately communicate what they're feeling.

"Come on," Teddy urges me, "she said we can go in and see him. But only if you're able to make it there without passing out. Or else this is pretty much the perfect place to do so."

"Is he dehydrated?" the voice calls from the desk.

Probably. Probably malnourished too but who's really asking.

"No he's okay. He's just in shock. He and Timmy were pretty close."

The name cuts razors through my lungs. If before I couldn't stand then now I've lost the ability to even sit. How could you even fucking... I'm at a loss for thoughts too.

"Just up the elevator and Intensive Care is fourth door past the nurses station. You can't miss it."

"Thank you. Come on Damian." Teddy lifts me gently from the plastic seat and wraps his arm around my waist. "Just one step at a time, okay?" he whispers in my ear.

Okay. I watch the lights dance in the floor as I pass. Each one seems more sickly than the last; a step closer to burning out until finally we reach the bulb just before a set of metal elevator doors and it's dead. Gone. Completely and wholly burned out.

"Someone should probably change that," I force with a laugh. A pathetic laugh. A laugh so pathetic and weak it shouldn't even be categorized as a laugh. It shouldn't even be associated with the word laugh. Shouldn't even be in the same universe.

"Always over thinking things, yeah little brother? Try to take some deep breaths. Timmy needs you to be strong right now. You're on top right?"

I practically choke, I was not expecting such a thing to ever come from my brother's mouth. "Um. What."

"I don't know what it's called. You know, the one who gives. The man in the relationship. Come on, don't stare at me like that, I know you know more about this than me."

I don't ever want to hear you speak of my sex life again. "That's disgusting." Not to mention completely insensitive. I feel another round of shock coming on and I do my best to swallow it down.

Think about rainbows. Think about unicorns. Think about Justin if that's going to be the only thing that gets a smile on your face you pathetic waste of space. Think about dancing terribly to Breathe Carolina in your boxers while your parents are shoveling snow from the door in order to get inside.

Teddy grips my hand in his. My palms are so sweaty they slip from his, and he has to squeeze tight enough to cut off circulation to my fingers in order to keep them interlocked. He's taking a huge risk, being seen in public interacting with me, and not just to shove me in a trashcan or steal my lunch money.

"You know," he tells me before the doors open with a ding, "you're still my brother and I love you no matter what. I might not always be the best at showing it, but you come before my friends any day. I'm sorry I've been such a shit brother for so long."

And it's so sincere, that those are the words it takes to bring a smile to my face. "I love you too," I respond, and grip his hand tighter than he held mine. "I'm okay. I'm ready for this."

We shuffle along the squeaky floors. I know I just told Teddy that I was okay, but that doesn't mean I'm in any sort of a hurry to see Timmy hooked up to half a dozen different machines.

Red card, blue card. Two red cards. A green card. Quarantine. I wonder what sort of lovely disease is growing in there.

"Probably nothing you want. It wouldn't kill you fast enough to be worth it. Too much pain and suffering and half memories of a boyfriend you couldn't afford to lose."

"We're here," Teddy tugs on my hand and then sets it free. "Do you want me to go in with you or...?"

I calmly take in a breath before answering. "That's alright. I have to do this on my own."

"Okay." He takes a seat in another set of hospital chairs, these ones padded and not held captive. With a trembling hand, I knock on the door and we both wait in silence for a response.

"Come in," a male voice calls, and I open the door and peak around. There's another set of chairs, and then two separate doors on the adjacent wall. A man and a woman sit as far apart as is possible when there's only been given equal numbers of places to sit as people sitting. One of them is Rachel McKinnon. The other I do not recognize.

Shit, they look like hell. I don't know if I can be here. I hold my hands tight around each other, and then am forced to give up after receiving possibly the most spontaneous hug of my entire life. But it fits the scene.

"Damian, I'm so sorry. He's in the left room, go on in and see him. I can't promise a pretty sight though. My little boy..."

I rub her back as comfortingly as I can. I'm not much good at this physical contact stuff, even worse than vocal contact, and that's saying something. My skills are rusty with under use.

"I'm really sorry Mrs. McKinnon. Mr. McKinnon." I motion to the unfamiliar man who remains seated. He answers me with a grunt.

"Go on in," Rachel reassures me. "It's okay. You're allowed in."

"Teddy told the nurse we were his cousins."

She smiles. "Go on in, Damian. That's what you came here for. I'm sorry I can't promise you anything pleasant to look at."

"That's okay.  I'm used to reality." I'm not sure whether that was supposed to comfort me or her, but it leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and a forced smile on hers, so my curiosity is answered.

"Teddy's in the hallway," I tell her. "I'm going to go in now."

Deep breath. You won't ever be ready for this, so now's as good a time as any. You made it through losing Justin, and Timmy's got machines fighting his battle for him so you've haven't lost him yet. You can do it.

I'm about as ready for this as I'll ever be, and my slippery palms slide on the handle. I can feel two sets of eyes as I pull open the door and let myself in. There's a soft click and I'm all alone with the constant beeping of Timmy's heart rate as his body struggles to stay alive.

I look up to my worst nightmare. Not even a thousand years of tearing at the sheets could have prepared me for this.